The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  Chapter Twenty-Four

   

  They were halfway to the guest quarters when the attack came, and Tiel barely managed to keep his feet when the first tremor shook the monastery. The second one, coming mere instants later, finished the job. He hit the floor along with the other two, and he did everything he could to catch his balance on all fours and survey the area. Explosions rocked the building on all sides, and amidst the low rumble of stone crashing down upon itself, he could hear the distinctive screams of those caught near the blasts.

  “Zandrast’s blood,” Van growled. “They’re going to bring the whole damned building down!”

  “No,” Tiel said, flipping nimbly to his feet. “They want survivors. They want Selaste.”

  The bodyguard scowled as he unsheathed his blade. “Someone should let them know she’s not actually the Kirshal.”

  “We have to get to her,” Rynne told them. “Rook said he was going to try and find her after dinner.”

  Van nodded. “The guest quarters are still our best bet. Come on—stay close.”

  Tiel followed, his mind racing. Even after Master Bale had told him the scouts were late, he hadn’t really expected anything. It had been almost a week since their battle at the Wall, and he hadn’t believed they could actually track her—especially once he learned she wasn’t the Kirshal.

  Apparently, he’d been wrong. The Darenthi hadn’t sent a token force in pursuit, either; it sounded like the monastery was under siege by an entire army of magi. But how so many had maneuvered through the forest so quickly and without being spotted…

  He buried the thought as they started running. Right now the how of it all didn’t particularly matter. Rynne was right—if it was the Darenthi, they would be after Selaste. They still believed she was the Kirshal, and they would probably be willing to kill every single person in this monastery to get to her.

  A voice inside his head screamed for him to head back to Master Bale and rally with the other Kirshane. But the monks were capable enough on their own even without weapons, and his mentor hadn’t earned the title of “master” by being a pushover himself. Surely he could stand up to any of the magi the Darenthi would throw at them. Besides, the bottom line was that Selaste was the target here, and so whatever else happened they needed to get to her first.

  At least, that’s what he told himself. But another voice—and a much louder one—told him that here and now, he had just made the choice he’d been worried about…and he’d sided with a group of near strangers over the men and women with whom he had spent the last four years of his life.

  The cries of battle raged up ahead of them, and they were two turns from the guest quarters when he caught a flicker of movement from his right. He instinctively ducked and raised his hand defensively—and the maneuver saved his life. A pair of crossbow bolts streaked past his ear and lodged into the wall right next to him. Ahead, charging straight at them, were five lightly armored soldiers with an almost feral glint in their eye.

  “Drek! I need a weapon,” Rynne hissed as she dropped into a crouch next to him. Van was already charging, apparently prepared to take them all head on.

  Tiel ground his teeth together and leapt at the first attacker. He dove in close, merely a heartbeat away from being cleaved in half, before ducking and flipping behind his opponent to grab the man’s head. Even as the soldier sliced the now empty air, Tiel snapped his neck and let the momentum carry the corpse straight to the floor.

  The two adjacent attackers reeled in momentary shock, and Tiel made them pay for their hesitation. He drove a knee into the first man’s gut and then a wicked elbow to the bottom of his chin, flipping him over to the floor. His partner recovered quickly, however, and attacked with a vicious downward slash. Tiel spun and caught the man’s arm in a fast hold, then snapped it cleanly at the elbow with his knee. The blade fell from the soldier’s grip as he let out an anguished shriek, and Tiel did his best to kick it in Rynne’s direction while it was still in mid-air. 

  As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. A geyser of blood sprayed the area as Van hacked down the third and fourth attackers in consecutive swings. The fifth and final soldier fired twice with his crossbow, but Van easily caught both on his shield. Then, with a quickness that seemed impossible for a man of his size, he vaulted over the two fresh corpses at his feet and hacked down hard enough on the crossbowman to virtually split the man in half. 

  “Goddess be merciful,” Rynne breathed as she shielded her eyes from the gore and picked up one of the swords. She then turned her eyes on Van. “You all right?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he told her. The side of his tunic was slashed open and wet with his own blood, but he didn’t seem to pay it any heed. “We need to keep moving.”

  As if on cue, Rook suddenly sprinted by the junction at the end of the hallway. He appeared to be carrying Selaste in his arms…

  “Nate!” Van yelled, charging forward.

  They followed. When they turned the corner, Rook glanced back over his shoulder to them and nodded up ahead. They made two quick turns before he leaned into an empty room and beckoned them inside. Ringing steel and dying screams echoed down the hall from all directions now, and a lump formed in Tiel’s throat. Was Master Bale even still alive? Would any of them be by the time this was over?

  Rook gently laid Selaste down on the table in the center of the room. “She hit her head. I’m not sure how bad it is.”

  “Van’s hurt too,” Rynne said, reaching out to him.

  The bodyguard pushed her away. “I said I’m fine. We need to focus on getting out of here. I don’t suppose you have a convenient secret escape route out of this place or something, do you, kid?”

  Tiel swallowed and forced himself to turn away from the sounds of carnage just down the hall. “No. There are places in the cellar we could hide, but I’m sure they’ll be thorough in their search.”

  “Those weren’t Darenthi soldiers,” Rynne pointed out. “Whatever that means.”

  Rook glanced over to her. “They did have a Faceless with them. But we can worry about who they are later. If we don’t have an escape route, we’re going to have to punch through one of the holes they made.”

  “We should find Master Bale,” Tiel suggested. “Mount a defense with the others.”

  Van grunted. “No offense, but if they have any sense at all they’ll be getting the void out of here too.”

  “I’ll find Bale,” Rook said. “The rest of you need to get into the forest and hide.”

  Van and Rynne shot him the same baffled look and spoke in unison. “What?”

  “I’m the one they want,” Rook explained, his jaw tightening. “I’m going to let them know that and try to convince them to leave the rest of you alone. It’s the only chance we have.”

  Van’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be—”

  “This isn’t a discussion,” Rook interrupted, pulling out his crossbow and handing it to Rynne. “You only get five shots. Make them count.”

  “Nate—”

  “You keep her safe,” Rook said, eyeing the larger man meaningfully. “Just like Tal Karoth, remember?”

  Van started to protest again, but instead he simply ground his teeth. “I really hate it when you try to be heroic.”

  Rook smiled faintly. “So do I. Now go. I’ll see you again soon.”

  With that, he sprinted out of the room directly towards the front of the building. Tiel blinked in confusion before turning towards the others. “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s an idiot—that’s all you need to know,” Van said, sweeping Selaste up into his arms. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  Tiel shook his head and turned to Rynne, but her face had gone hard as she held up the crossbow in front of her. She tossed him a quick, pained glance, then spun and rushed out into the hallway to cover Van. Tiel followed.